


The Consignment Store Dress

by ZombieCyborgAssassin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, My First AO3 Post, One Shot, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieCyborgAssassin/pseuds/ZombieCyborgAssassin
Summary: A bargain is the least of what Darcy finds at Consignment store.





	The Consignment Store Dress

**Author's Note:**

> My prompt was: "A vintage wedding dress is bought at a consignment store. Wrapped in the satin skirt is a letter." aaand somehow it became this.  
> Be gentle, its my first time. *blushes*
> 
> I own nothing, I'm just hijacking the characters and making them dance.

Darcy drove back from the Consignment store $250 lighter, but it was totally worth it. Not only was she now getting paid by the bucket load as Jane’s personal assistant, but she had been living in the new Avengers facility rent free for 4 months now. So she had actual money to spend on things, which was surprisingly easy to adjust to.

However, what was surprisingly hard to adjust to, was the fact that the only people that would even talk to her were Jane and Thor, and they used all their free time doing the horizontal hanky-panky. Which Darcy couldn’t blame them, because frankly if she had 24 hour 7 day access to muscles like Thor’s, she would be biz-ay all the time, too.

But as it was, she had no access to Thor-like muscles, and so she was alone a lot. She had made efforts to introduce herself to the other lab monkeys, but apparently her lack in “real science” education meant they believed she used her feminine wiles to get where she was, or to put it as she had overheard it; “gave head to get ahead.” Apparently, though, that didn’t stop them from taking all her homemade Lab-Warming Muffins and adorable but delicious little Grandma Sandwiches.

After that, she tried to meet some of the other Avengers through Jane and Thor. Since Jane had mentioned that they now had a full house, with all the gang back together with new faces and all that Saturday morning cartoon jazz. But after her somewhat embarrassing attempts to introduce herself to Captain America and the now fully operational Winter Soldier, she gave up. Because seriously, when the paragon of Justice and his tough-as-nails BFF take one look at you, stutter out some kind of lame excuse and run in the other direction, you know that you’re just going to waste your time with the rest of the unitard wearing gang.

Smiling down at her bag full of wonderful, Darcy decided that she was glad she found it. She might save it for maybe her wedding; it made her feel THAT amazing. It was the most perfect dress in the whole world. It was a world war two era silver-white gown that made her skin look like it was glowing. It was covered in embroidered pewter stars and when she tried it on, she felt like a Ziegfeld Girl. It moulded to her otherwise difficult to fit body like a dream and she knew it was a once in a lifetime dress, so she bought it. She absolutely had to. If she ever got married, it would be in this dress. If not, then she could swan around her apartment looking like a goddess on her off days. The lady running the shop said that the woman who owned it wore it when she married the love of her life, that their romance was practically legend in their family. The husband’s younger sister had looked after it as one of the most treasured items their family had ever had. So the dress was practically infused with love magic or whatever. So really, it was an investment for her future happiness.

She parked the car under the brand spanking new facility (that still made Darcy believe that Tony Stark had something to compensate for) and made her way back to her apartment via the elevator. She tried to ignore the Winter Soldiers about face the moment he realised she was in the elevator, but the obvious avoidance was really getting to her.

After dumping her bags, she carefully lifted the gorgeous dress out of the bag, and holding it back up in front of her body to admire it in the full length mirror, she smiled to herself. “Fuck the Winter Soldier and his Do-Gooder boyfriend. I’m awesome and they’re the ones missing out,” her hand absently petting the silky soft garment.

It was then that she felt something angular and stiff under the layers of the skirt. Frowning to herself, she lay the dress over her bed and felt around among the layers until she found a barely indiscernible pocket sewn into the second layer of the skirt in the back.

Reaching in, Darcy found a yellowed envelope and sucked in a deep breath. What if it were a love letter from the war to the woman who previously owned the dress? What if it were a telegram from the Army telling the receiver that her love had died? What if it were a letter from her secret lover, telling her that her abusive husband will be murdered on the night of the 8th?

A devious cackle escaped from the part of her that enjoyed reality TV, as she unfolded the delicate paper. The envelope didn’t have anything written on it, but that could mean anything.

_‘Dear Two Thousand and Seventeen Darcy Lewis,’_

“Uh, what?” She felt her face go slack at her own handwriting on the aged lined paper.

She scanned the bottom of the page and stiffened when she saw;

_‘From Nineteen Forty One Darcy Lewis-Barnes.’_

“What the actual fuck?” she yelped.

Looking around her apartment, waiting for someone (Odin knows who) to jump out and yell “Ha ha we got you good!” or something equally as stupid. But as seconds ticked by, nothing happened.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy decided to read the possible prank letter anyway. Curiosity had taken over and now she needed to know what in the Heimdall was going on.

_‘Dear Two Thousand and Seventeen Darcy Lewis,_

_I’m sure by now, you’re confused and scared, but this isn’t even the half of the weird things that are about to happen to you. Me. Us? Ugh, time travel sucks._

_Anyway, things are about to get real, and you need to hold onto your tits and do the following, otherwise you’re going to explode the universe and that would suck._

_So you have already created a time paradox, and you need to end it by starting it._

_Basically, to save the universe, you need to push Jane out of the way when that moron Richards does a thing with one of Jane’s machines. You land in Nineteen Thirty Eight. Everything from there will be fine._

_You’re going to spend about 3 years here, and they will be the best in your life, and then you’re going to be rescued by Dr Strange with his weird glowy Eye of Otome games, on January 3 rd Nineteen Forty One, and you’ll be back like an hour later. _

_The most important thing you need to remember is that if you try to change the past by not time travelling, the world will end. And if you try to change the past, the world will end. This time paradox is hard, but it’s necessary and it’ll be awesome for you._

_From Nineteen Forty One Darcy Lewis-Barnes.’_

The now painful silence echoed in her ears as she reread the letter again.

Either Richards is going to fuck up and actual facts send her back in time where she may or may not marry a person named Barnes (and no, brain, we’re not going anywhere near the idea of the delicious Winter Soldier because reasons) OR someone is playing an extremely elaborate joke on her and she’s making some asshole laugh at her. Like Loki or something, cause he’s a dick like that.

Sighing, she decided to grab her iPod and head into the lab and try and get some of Jane’s data done. She had people for that now, but none of them were as good as her, and she needed something to do to let the idea ferment in her mind. She needed to wrap her mind around it, maybe she missed something.

What Darcy didn’t expect (or enjoy) to see was that Reed Richards had somehow managed to get Jane out from under Thor and arguing over the machines.

All her organs flipped in her stomach. This is obviously someone’s idea of a prank. Obviously. With as many spies and magic users in this building, anyone could have set this up.

Darcy set herself down at her desk, slipping her earphones in to drown out Richards annoying voice, and began typing.

By the time she got to the third barely legible back of pop-tarts box of notes, she was interrupted by Jane tapping her on the shoulder.

Smiling up at her, she said “Yo, Boss Lady. Why are you here and not doing the do with thunder thighs?”

Jane’s frustrated eye roll, instead of her usual blush, was enough to know that Richards was really getting to her. “Thor was challenged to a sparring session by Steve and Bucky,” Darcy felt her organs flip again at the thoughts running in the back of her mind at that. “Anyway, can you look at Reeds calculations, I keep telling him they’re wrong, but he doesn’t believe me.” Jane finished by handing her a piece of paper with an elaborate equation on it.

“What am I looking at?” she asked at the same time as the stretchy douche canoe just says, “It’ll be fine. I’ve run the math myself.”

“This is apparently _his_ figures for an Einstein-Rosen Bridge and,” Jane turned a dirty look at the Fantastic Four member while Darcy looked over the equation, “Darcy has been working the data for the Einstein-Rosen Bridge since I got my first readings from the Bifrost. She can-”

“These numbers are wrong,” Darcy cut Jane off. “You’re going to blow something up.”

“Again.” Jane added under her breath.

Reed doesn’t even register that they’ve even spoken as he went back to tinkering with one of Jane’s machines.

Jane snatched the equation back from Darcy, “Hey, you’re going to blow something up, you have to look at these numbers again! See! This here...”

Darcy bit her lip, her stomach now churning. Staring at the equation, she realised that either Richards would only consider a man’s feedback, the pig, or he needed more science brains to back Jane up. She decided to take a quick photo and send it to Tony Stark with the message; “Richards’s math is wrong, isn’t it? He won’t listen.”

By the time Tony ‘I am Ironman’ Stark had called her back; the lab was beginning to fill with the sound of grinding machinery.

“Who is this and how did you get my number? Also, that math is incredibly wrong, so wrong I can’t even see right from high altitudes,” came the billionaire’s rapid fire voice, along with the sound of Thor’s yelling in the background.

“Yeah, Hi, I’m Jane Foster’s assistant, and we’ve been trying to convince the stretchy loser Richards to NOT mess around with Time/Space, but our lack in Y chromosomes apparently makes him deaf to us. Now we’re currently facing a possible explosion in the labs, so can you send help?”

There was silence on the other end as the machine that was now glowing began to shoot sparks.

“We’re on the way. FRIDAY lock down the labs and Evac the building.”

The sick feeling got worse and she watched Jane and Richards arguing over the machine RIGHT. NEXT. TO. IT.

The letter said that she had to do this to save the universe or whatever, and this is one really fucked up joke if it were real. Also if she does what the letter says, she’s going to get married? Who jumps into marriage to save their best friend? Wait, no, it’s probably something that happens over the 3 years. Plus, past Darcy said it was awesome. So, IF it’s not a prank, this might be really amazing, and save the universe. If it’s a prank, I’ll just taser whoever it is in the eyes. Easy.

Clearing her throat, Darcy stood up, and began making her way over to Jane. She said loudly, “FRIDAY, contact Dr Strange. Tell him January 3rd 1941.”

She watched in what almost felt like slow motion as Ironman, Thor, Captain America and the Winter Soldier ran the length of the glass corridor, now lit by the neon blue light from the machine. The terror on their faces, as the light began to flicker with the screeching of the machine, disappeared in the blinding light as Darcy pushed Jane as far away as possible.

When the light faded, she was gone.

An hour later, Dr Strange returned with a heavily pregnant Darcy, who would have fallen to her knees sobbing, if it weren’t for Bucky being right there to catch her.

 


End file.
